I Hate You Too

All characters are over the age of eighteen and all acts described in this short story are consensual.

I had no intention of continuing this story but because I care a lot about the comments my readers provide, I give you this as the second installment of this now series. It took me some time to see where I could take this, but now I have a path to at least a third chapter. We will see where it goes from here, but from here, I will give you at least one additional chapter. Thank you for your comments! Please keep them coming and keep them constructive!

I HATE YOU, TOO

She rested against the footboard of her bed and waited for him.

"Come on..."

Her satin panties were getting wetter by the second as she waited for the man she raised to come into her bedroom and take her like the son she abandoned did the day before.

"Come on, damnit!" she hissed.

He appeared in her doorway just as she was about give up hope. She was seconds away from saying goodbye to the man she raised.

"Stop right there," she said, standing upright with her legs spread slightly. "You owe me."

Nathan looked confused.

"Take off your clothes. You better not be aroused looking at your mother like this," she said.

He complied with her order and was soon standing in front of her with nothing on his body except the impressions of his former clothing on his skin and a drooping member.

"So, what was it, Nathan? What was it that made you turn your predator eyes on me? You owe me that answer and you owe it to me right now."

She took two steps forward while removing her bra.

"Was it my breasts?" she asked, looking down at his penis.

"It seems not. That's a shame, you know. I was always commented on them," she said.

Taking another two steps forward, she stopped and turned around. She turned her head and looked at him.

"What about this? Is it my bum?" she asked, hooking her thumb into her damp panties and pushing them down her legs.

She moved her legs forward and back, working her panties down her legs without bending over too far. When they gathered on the floor, she bent her legs at the knees and picked them up without revealing herself to the confused man behind her.

"I guess not," she said after looking back to see he was still flaccid. "That's too bad because your father loves my rear end, ya know."

She turned quickly, covering her mound with her hand that held her panties. She walked up to him until her nipples barely touched the skin on his chest.

"Is it my vagina, Nathan? Is that what it is?" she asked, lifting the panties until they were just below his nose.

His eyes narrowed just slightly, and he sniffed the fabric deeply.

"It's none of those things, Mother," he told her.

"My son is gone, Nathan. You should get used to calling me..." she started before hesitating. Her eyes went back and forth between each of his. She waited for him to name her.

"Martina," he whispered.

"What is it then, Nathan? What made you turn against your mother?" she asked, her gaze still penetrating him.

"It was

because

she was my mother, Martina. I've seen breasts. One vagina is nearly like all the others."

He took a small step closer to her, causing her breasts to press firmly against his chest.

"Well, you fucked me."

"I did."

"Why are you here now, then?" she asked him, still gazing deeply in his eyes.

"Because I hate you, too."

He struck her spirit with his reply. He made her wonder if her letter was a coded invitation for him to fuck her without her actually realizing it. She was weak with his wit and intellect.

She got onto her knees and put her hands on his hips. She positioned her face so the tip of his penis just touched her between her eyes. She looked up at him as best she could and tilted her head up slowly, letting the tip of his penis glide down her nose until it pressed against her lips.

"Would you like me to take it into my mouth?" she asked, holding his stare.

He lowered himself until they were staring straight into each other's eyes.

"Rub yourself as you get me ready, Martina, okay?"

She nodded and he rose. His penis was hard and poking at her lips. Her tongue slithered out of her mouth and cupped the underside of the head of his penis. She swiped her tongue side to side, toying with him. A small amount of precum leaked from the hole at the tip. The tip of her tongue darted over the slit, lapping up the salty juice. Just as she did, she was rewarded with a larger sample.

"God damnit," he grunted as he unexpectedly shot his load.

She recoiled at the initial surprise but gripped his rod and jerked him to completion. Several shots of his seed landed on her face. When he was done, he was breathing heavily and was attempting to be apologetic about finishing so soon.

She took hold of her panties and slowly wiped the semen off her face as she stood. When she was done, he was staring into her eyes as they had done since he walked into the room. She used a single finger to hold the garment that was soaked with both their juices off to the side.

"Don't worry, I can finish myself," she said.

She dropped the panties on the carpet between them and the door and walked to her bed. She climbed on, exaggerating her movements as to expose herself to him as much as she could. She laid on her back and faked a frustrated sigh while her hand went between her legs. He moved to the side of the bed and went to join her when she stopped him.

"Nobody comes into my bed without an invitation," she said, thinking she had the upper hand.

Her tenacity in the moment turned him on and he began to stiffen again.

"I suspect that if I waited for an invitation, I would not have fucked you yesterday," he told her.

She felt a flood of moisture coat the walls of her vagina at the display of confidence he put on. She avoided repeating herself but also did not invite him. She tested his resolve and waited for him to come to her. The moment he put his knee on the mattress, she opened her legs in silent welcome.

He knew his place and penetrated her immediately. He used long, slow strokes to generate long lasting pleasure for both. Sometimes, he rammed into her like a piston just for kicks since he knew he would not be finishing any time soon. His goal was to unlock the secret of her pleasure. He wanted her to squirm under his control in the bedroom. He wanted to cower under her motherly control everywhere else.

When he was through with the vanilla sex she offered him, he flipped her over and forced her onto her hands and knees. Boundaries needed to be tested and that position opened a new realm of possibilities. When he pushed himself into her from behind, he took hold of her hips and made simple movements until he was confident she had become complacent of his behavior.

He coated his thumb with her juices by placing it on the top side of his penis as it moved in and out. When he was satisfied she was ready, the experimentation began. His thumb touched the small patch of skin between her vagina and anus; gently applying pressure and pushing gobs of her cream up to her tight hole. The different sensation amplified the pleasures she felt. She suspected his intent and let him continue.

When he saw that her hole was ready, he slid the tip of his thumb over the puckered flesh and waited for her reaction.

"Careful, you're on thin ice," she huffed between strokes.

He applied pressure until the hole opened just slightly and released his thumb. He felt her manually tighten herself as if denying his request for entry. He likened her reaction to her trying to stop him from entering her room the day before. An attempt was made, but it was intentionally feeble. He repeated the motion again and again until she no longer resisted the would-be intruder. He finally curled his thumb until it was just inside her while continuing his movements in and out of her vagina.

"More," she whispered as she exhaled.

He didn't hear the wanton invitation and continued penetrating her anal cavity just slightly.

"More, damnit," she grunted quietly.

He heard her after several feeble invitations and during the next intrusion, he pushed his fat finger deeper. Once he was in past the first thick knuckle, he held it there. He pushed harder into her and pulled further out until he was like a pogo stick, bounding in and out of her accommodating tunnel. He felt her occasionally tighten around his thumb but was experienced enough to know where she was at.

He kept up the full insertion and withdraw technique and made a single adjustment. He placed his hand firmly against the right cheek of her butt and began to fuck her puckered hole with his short, fat finger.

"Paydirt," he thought as he felt her body tense against him.

He kept silent as her body convulsed beneath him. He was in no position to gloat, and they had made great progress with measured, mutual silence. When her orgasm was complete, she fell into the prone position, forcing the two sexual invaders to vacate her body. She also recognized the value of silence and didn't congratulate him on making her cum so hard, though she would have if it her husband. She didn't applaud his willingness to try new things, unlike that same husband she'd been married to all those years. Instead, she lay still, breathing heavily and waiting for his next move.

He took advantage of the situation and the fact that he intended to force her vagina to milk his balls empty once again. He used one of his legs to open hers and placed his penis at her tight hole.

"You get points for skill, but don't push your luck, boy," she huffed at him.

He repositioned the tip of his spear at her vagina and pushed in. Again, he was slow and deliberate with his movements. He ensured he delivered full and powerful strokes and listened to her as he moved. His previous experiences would have ended the moment she appeared to give up, but she was willing to go again. He was in uncharted territory and needed to learn more about his new lover.

He patiently listened to all her sounds to determine if she was simply enjoying the second round or if her body intended to reward her again. She was comfortable being taken in that position and gave warning at the only boundary she knew of. She was not focused on anything except the feeling of a young, hard, and thick rod moving in and out of her.

He was also absent of the world around him while he focused on the mind and the flesh beneath him.

***

Later that night, she sat waiting in her bed for her husband to come home as if she had not been having sex with her son the two days prior. She was relaxing on the same bed she shared with her son just a few hours before when the text messages started rolling in.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. She looked over and saw the banner alert say she had received a text message from her husband. She picked it up wondering why work was keeping him late.

"I hate you. You left that letter in the kitchen for me to find and I hate you for it."

Her mind raced to recall the events much earlier that afternoon. She remembered giving her son the letter and watching him read it. She recalled being steady in her conviction to kick him out of the house for what he had done the day before. She memorized the moment she got weak and invited him into her bedroom again.

"Oh, no!" she thought. "He dropped it on the floor!"

She went to reply but another message came in.

"If the house were smaller, I might have heard him fucking you, but I didn't. If I did, I would have just walked out, but I heard you fucking another man. I went to our bedroom to confront you, but I saw you there on the bed with your legs wide open, letting him treat you like a piece of meat and I hate you for that."

"He saw us," she whispered faintly, thinking about how he could have seen them without either one of them seeing him.

"Missionary? No, I would have seen him. Doggy?" she wondered but dismissed that one as well.

She remembered her son driving himself in and out of her while she was flat on her stomach. Her legs were wide open, and her face was turned the opposite direction. She would not have seen him at all.

Again, she went to reply but another message appeared on her screen.

"I hate you for leaving me that disgusting letter, but then you taunt me by leaving cum soaked panties at the door of our sacred place? Monster!"

"No!" she thought, "I didn't do that on purpose!"

Another message appeared quicker than the others.

"I hate you for making me see that you've allowed yourself to go so low. You're his MOTHER!"

She recognized the method he was using as her own. She also knew her husband enough to know that it was very much intentional and with that, he intended to degrade her by using her weakness against her.

"He saw me be immoral and used the only tool I had to try and not be that way to demoralize me further," she thought.

She would have cried if she didn't realize it was her own fault. She didn't bother trying to respond until she thought he was finished.

"Well, MARTINA, I have the letter, I have the panties and I will seek out revenge for this betrayal. I hate you for making me do this."

Just when she thought she couldn't feel lower, he called her by the new pet name her son came up for her.

"It was when he was plowing into me while I was flat on my stomach," she recalled.

Her son had began experimenting again and one of those experiments turned out to be amateur dirty talk. In the moment, she nearly laughed at his idiotic attempt. It was like he watched too many porn videos on the internet. She shut that down quickly and helped him move onto something else. She cringed when she thought of what he was saying.

"You like this, Martina?" he said. "You like it?"

She shook her head just thinking about it. Worse, she cringed harder wondering if her husband overheard amateur hour happening in their bedroom. She laid there numb in her bed with thoughts creating a tornado in her mind. She picked up her phone from her chest once she realized the messages had stopped.

"Will you come home so we can talk about it?" she wrote.

She knew there was nothing to talk about. She was caught mid-act with her son's penis inside her. There was literally nothing she could say or do to change that fact. She pressed send and was instantly greeted with her cell provider's blocked notice.

"Oh, grow up," she moaned.

She set the phone back onto the nightstand.

The realization didn't miss her that she wasn't behaving like someone whose marriage was almost certainly over. She knew she had become the punching bag, unable to deflect anything being thrown at it. She would have to sit there and take whatever cards were dealt to her. With that realization in mind, she drifted off to the kitchen to get a bottle of wine from the fridge and a glass. She didn't bother closing her robe; not that it mattered. Her son had been in his room since dinner. Even if he were out in the open, it wasn't like he'd not seen her in all her glory.

"My son fucks me and runs off to be by himself and my husband knows I'm an incestuous whore," she thought, standing in the hallway next to the door to her son's bedroom as she walked back to her room.

She clumsily poured a large serving of wine into her glass and took a gulp directly from the bottle. She then realized she was not able to deal with the next day professionally. She went back to her room and texted her partner that she was sick after all and would need a day or so to get better. She clumsily dropped her phone on the side table, dropped her robe and went into the master bath. She turned back into the room after turning on the shower and took another drink from the bottle.

She looked at her phone, feeling the effects of the wine already impacting her judgement and picked it up. She opened her son's text messages and read the last few.

"I wonder if he was thinking about fucking me when he sent these seemingly innocent messages," she thought.

"Bush, strip or bare," she texted him without thinking.

"God damnit! Do I not learn from my mistakes?" she asked herself out loud.

She tried to tell herself she didn't care what his response was, and she would blame it on sending it to the wrong person. She set the phone down and was about to return to her shower when her phone buzzed. It was her son.

"bald"

"Ugh, whatever. Nobody asked you," she said, still trying to dismiss her responsibility in the entire mess she knew she created.

The message itself was an eyeroll moment for her, but what struck her was the immature choice of wording and the juvenile way it was sent. She would have felt better had it not looked like a teenager sending a text to his friend.

Regardless, she rinsed her body off while hoping and praying she was also washing the dirty deeds from her soul. The two large gulps of wine were not helping her tame her inner monster.

"Don't shave your pussy and stop fucking your son. You can fix this," she told herself as she stared at the razor.

"Weak!" she berated herself as she grabbed the razor. "At least there's still one man who wants me."

She convinced herself to go through with her half-baked plan for the evening. She meticulously shaved her mound, ensuring not a spec of hair remained. She washed her body with a fragrant body wash and thoroughly washed her hair with a shampoo of the same scent. When she was done, she dabbed her hair just enough that it wasn't dripping and ran her fingers through her hair to make it seem as if she just hopped out of the shower and did not prepare for what she had already decided what she was going to do.

She took another large gulp of wine, put on her robe without securing the tie string and padded slowly into the hallway. She stopped at her son's door and listened closely for any sign of what he was up to. She heard nothing and went to tap on the door but stopped short of making contact. She cursed herself for even going that far but went to knock again and again, she stopped. She flung one side of her robe open, putting her hand on her hip and met her bowed head with her other hand in frustration.

"What am I doing?" she asked herself.

She was deep in thought about whether she wanted to go through with it when the door opened and startled her.

"Mom," he said, opening the door wide.

She jumped in surprise and covered herself as soon as her wits returned. She looked him over. He stood nude in the door. His penis was sticking straight out and was still bouncing from the way his body moved as he opened the door.

"I... I just wanted to see if," she started. She couldn't focus. "I made a snack if you want to eat or whatever."

The expression on her face and her non sequitur commentary in the middle of the hall made it obvious that she was flustered.

"I saw the shadow of your feet under my door. Next time, turn the hall light off if you want to spy on me," he told her plainly.

"Oh," was the only word she could muster.

She stared at him, and he stared at her. The awkward encounter was interrupted when the lesser half of her gave in once again. She opened the bottom of her robe revealing a freshly shaved mound. She looked between her legs then to him.

"Oh, fuck," she said, "forget it."

She turned and jogged quickly to her bedroom and closed the door behind her. She moved just as quickly to the nightstand and chugged the wine from the bottle, having ignored her glass completely. She set the bottle down and secured the robe more than it had been before and stood there chastising herself. She realized quickly that she made the same choice as she did the day before. She subconsciously chose not to lock the door.