Wow! The first story actually did better than I expected. I want to thank everyone who commented and rated it, I appreciate that.
Yeah, I guess I do need someone to proof-read my stories, but I haven't told a soul I write erotica, so it's going to be hard. Editors usually take too long cutting and editing a story, so the time between posting chapters of a story becomes longer.
I'll try to get an editor for my other works, but I'll be working alone until I post the last chapter of this story, so please endure. I'll try my best to improve.
I apologise for the slow upload of this chapter, I share my laptop with an older brother writing his masters, so I barely get to use, again sorry.
All the characters in this story are 18 years or older. All the characters are fictional, like this story.
*****
One week after witnessing my mother having torrid sex with my dad's co-worker, it was still all I could think about; of course the fact that I watched and masturbated to the video I recorded of the act every chance I got didn't help me forget.
I felt intensely aroused while masturbating to images of my mother being a slut onscreen, disgusted with myself for being such a pervert afterwards, then angry at my mum for being such a whore after the self loathing passed. Unlike most boys who worshiped their mothers, I detested mine, of course she deserved my resentment.
Growing up, our house was divided. My dad favoured me and mum favoured my sis. At an early age I knew to avoid my mother like the plague, this was difficult though; seeing as how we lived in the same house and all.
Her apparent disdain for me only pushed me closer to dad though. I worshiped the man, still do. He was exactly who I wanted to grow up to become. He thought me how to throw a football, even though he absolutely hated the sport, because that was what good fathers did.
He thought me how to ride a bike. With his actions he thought me what it meant to be a man. If there was one thing I admired most about Douglas Brennan, it was the way he treated others. A man of his stature could've easily been a bully, but he treated everyone with respect; most especially his wife, my mother.
This is why it was so infuriating to watch her treat him like crap. She insulted him every chance she got. She never acknowledged it when he did anything right, but was quick to scold him when he did anything wrong, and all through this he always kept his cool.
For as long as I can remember I've wanted to make her pay; not only for my father's sake, but for mine as well. I wanted to punish her in some way, to make her feel as worthless as she made me feel. To degrade her, drive her to the point of committing suicide. Is that going too far? That's hardly far enough.
From the way I've described her, one would imagine an ice queen, someone incapable of human emotion, but that wasn't my mum; I know because of how she treated my sister. No, my mum was capable of love, so much love, she just wasn't capable of showing me and dad love.
It was the way mum treated baby sis that drove me to seek her affection at first, but at an early age of nine it became painfully obvious that she would never treat me the same. I know a lot of you have heard the saying 'it's a fine line between love and hate', but not a lot of you truly understood it. Well I did, I understood it so well. I think I hated my mother as fiercely as I did because I loved her just as fiercely once.
Well after dreaming of the billion ways I could ruin her, finally I had the means to do so in my hands. All I needed to do was to play my cards right. I knew I had something that could damage her reputation, but I wanted to do more than damage her reputation, I wanted to ruin her. Besides, sex-tapes were common occurrence in America.
I briefly considered showing the video to my dad, but that wouldn't have achieved my goals either. Dad could be a shark when he needed to be, but when it came to mum he was extremely gentle. I knew if I showed him the tape with no proof that the affair had been going on while they were still together, it would be of little use to him. The only thing I could do with it was use it to blackmail mum; naturally.
I was scared though, mum was a smart woman, what if she didn't fall for it. Blackmailing her with just this video was a gamble, I needed more damning evidence. So I got on my computer and did a quick search of private detectives in the area, I got the contact number for a P.I firm closest to my location. I called and made an appointment for 2 PM the next day.
Satisfied with what I had done so far, I got up, locked the door to my room. I got on my bed, lying on my back; I pulled down my pants and proceeded to rub one out. I shut my eyes and conjured the image of my naked mum.
She stood there in front of me naked, her left hand cupping her tit while her right hand slowly massaged her pubic mound. She was so wet her pussy juice flowed down her thighs. Her hand slowly slid down her body until she was slowly stroking her pussy.
She slid one finger inside her pussy and moaned; she removed the finger and brought it to her mouth and sucked it. Then she inserted the finger into her pussy again, this time when she removed the finger, she used it to smear her pussy juice all over her nipple.
She pinched her nipple lightly and moaned. Then she returned her hand to her pussy again, this time she plunged three fingers into her pussy, "Oh god—that's so good," she said in a low husky voice.
"I think I'm wet enough now baby, come fuck me," she said as she turned around and got on all fours, leaning her upper body down and arching her ass upward. It was at that point I let go and spewed my semen all over my stomach, some even got as far as my chest. Suffice to say it was a very satisfactory orgasm.
After cleaning myself, I went to the living room to catch up on some of the programmes I'd recorded on the DVR. Somehow the masturbatory frenzy I'd been in all week was all gone once I'd decided what to do with the video of mum fucking dad's co-worker.
I spent two hours watching episodes of Grey's Anatomy season 11 before I felt hungry. Walking to the kitchen and finding the fridge empty, I went to my room, got my phone and ordered for pizza. It took about 15 minutes before the pizza was delivered, and another 14 for me to finish the whole thing.
An hour later I'd finished watching the last recorded programme. I deleted all my programmes, then browsed through the channels to see if there was anything interesting showing; there wasn't, so I switched off the TV and decided to go to bed at only around 8:49 PM.
I guess I hadn't slept well all week, because as soon as I flopped on my bed, I dozed off. I didn't even turn off the lights. And unlike previous nights, I didn't dream of my mum. I slept so soundly in fact that I didn't wake up until early noon the next day.
