Thanks to WAA01 for the edits and proofreading.
Here you are AlternativeAnon.
Note: There isn't a lot of sex in this one. If that's what you're looking for I suggest you look elsewhere, that being said, enjoy the read.
All characters are over 18+
******
Johnny (his given name John), Masters stood in silent shock as he witnessed something that would forever change his life as he peered through the crack in the double sliding doors that led to their den. There was his mother (Katherine), on her hands and knees as his brothers Bill (eldest), and Ray (second born), spit-roasted her. Ray's girlfriend was beneath his mother, her head pointed at Ray while her ass was pointed at Bill. A moan caught his attention, his green eyes glanced to its source. His father (Brandan), laid on his back, Bill's girlfriend straddled his father's face while his sister (Annie), bounced on his father's cock. He wondered how she didn't put her eye out as her 46DD breasts bounced.
"Yes Daddy, make me cum," Annie moaned.
"I thought Katherine was joking about your skill," Ruth moaned lightly, "so glad to be proven wrong."
"Told you baby you would enjoy this," Bill said, blowing his fiancée a kiss.
"Put that cock back in me," Wanda said, hungrily.
"Enjoying my brother's cock?" Ray asked, peering down at her.
"Oh god yes, you did an excellent job teaching your boys how to fuck Mrs. Masters," Wanda said, before her mouth was stuffed with Ray's cock.
"That is what a mother does," Katherine said, blowing her eldest son a kiss. "We need to hurry before John gets home."
"Don't you think it's time to bring him into this Mom?" Ray asked, before returning his cock back to his mother's cunt.
"No," Katherine said, shaking her head. "You know your brother, he's not ready for this. I doubt he ever will given his state of mind."
"Yeah Ray, you don't want to push Johnny into this, you remember his break down when he was thirteen?" John rolled his eyes at his brother. Bill thought just because he was majoring in psychology that he knew him. Bill knew nothing!
"Yeah, but that's because Mom accidently ran over Buster, and you know how he loved that..."
John heard enough, it was true he did love Buster he was the only friend he could tell everything to without being judged as a freak or being carted off to the ward like his mother had done. He had spent two long years in that horror show as the doctors tried to diagnose him. Since his return home he no longer looked at his parents as he had once done. Sure, they had come to visit him, even when he told them not to, yet they would always silently sit staring at one another, them always trying to get him to open up. That wasn't going to happen - Ever! - he learned that lesson the hard way. Silently walking up the stairs, blocking out the noise as he reached the second floor. Entering his small room, being the youngest child he didn't get a choice of what room was going to be his. Tossing his bag onto his single bed that was nestled tightly into the wall in the corner to save on space; what little there was with his dresser, and his desk taking up most of it in that six by nine room. Shutting his door to permanently shut out the noise.
Pulling out his wallet lining it up perfectly with the edge of the dresser's top. Lining up his spare change from smallest to largest along the left side of the dresser. He never spent it; it was his routine. If it didn't count up to fifty-six cents... it would be a bad day. That was how much money he had when his dear friend died. Tapping the frame of Buster's photo three times, his eyebrow twitched when the other frame was a skewed from its position. Grumbling that his mother couldn't leave his room be as he straightened out the photo. He could clean his own room well enough. He didn't need her coming in and ruining everything. Telling his old friend how his day was as his thumb ran down the frame. Telling Buster that the drugs they had him on didn't make him feel like himself, it felt like he was always in a zombie-like state. Then again, he didn't want to be put back in that ward. So, he took the Prozac, the Seroquel, and the Concerta they had him on all to keep from returning to that place.
Releasing a huff of annoyance as he noted his precisely neat stack of comics on the corner of his desk had been rifled through. Cursing his mother, he wondered if she did this on purpose? Breathing out a sigh once the stack was once again in alphabetical order and neatly aligned.
"Fuck!" Johnny shouted so ending the guise of his silent presence in the house as he saw the yellow sticky note on his computer screen. Ripping the note off, crumbling it once he read his mother's foolish note. Narrowing his eyes at the residue that it left on the glass. Throwing open his door, ignoring their frantic voices and the panicky noises from the floor below as he stomped down the stairs. Mumbling to himself as he marched into the kitchen. Bending down in front of the sink, taking out his favorite brand of glass cleaner, which he had to buy himself since his mother always got the wrong one. There had to be no streaks on the glass and any other brand would never measure up.
"John when did..." Katherine began to speak as her hands falling from the belt of her robe. A chill ran up her spine at the look in her son's eye as he rose with the bottle in his hand. "I'm sorry John..."
"Save it," Johnny said coldly, as he ripped two paper towels off of the roll.
"Son, I am..."
"Don't care, go back to fucking each other," Johnny said, indifferently, as he moved passed his mother. The smack across his face caught him off guard splitting his lip in the process.
"You do not speak to me like that!" Katherine yelled. "
Shit
," she hissed to herself as his hemophobia set in as Johnny saw the blood on his fingertips. "John, relax..."
"Don't touch me!" Johnny growled pressing the paper towel to his lip as he ran to his room.
"John!" Brandan called out as his son ran up the stairs.
"It's going to be a bad night," Katherine said, pinching the bridge of her nose.
"Want me to go talk to him?" Brandan asked, he didn't want his youngest son to ruin this night.
"I'll do it," Bill said, putting on an air of arrogance.
"What's going on?" Wanda asked.
"Right you haven't met him yet, that was crazy..." Ruth quickly shut her mouth as their eyes quickly shot to her.
"You might have a nice pussy and all, but don't ever call my son that!" Brandan snapped.
"Whatever," Ruth said, rolling her eyes.
"Don't!" Bill hissed. "You might not understand him, you have no right to judge him," he whispered as he stood before her.
"Sorry Bill," Ruth said, apologetically.
"Just try to be more aware of what you say. Johnny didn't ask to be like this, alright?" Bill said, placing a kiss on her forehead when she nodded.
"Since John knows, let's finish what we started, it'll give him time to calm down," Katherine said undoing her belt.
Half an hour later...
"It's just blood, it's just blood. It's not going to hurt you," Johnny muttered as he rocked himself in the corner of his room. "See?! It's stopped. No need to worry," he said reassuring himself. He knew he had to learn to do this himself. Soon he'd be on his own. Smacking his cheeks, slowing his heart, centering himself before getting to his feet. Walking over to his chair, grabbing his bag, unzipping it, pulling out his notebook setting it aside so he could type out his report.
"John," Katherine said softly, after she had bathed in her son's and husband's hot shower of semen along with Annie, Wanda, and Ruth.
"Go away!"
"Baby, I'm sorry, I should have remembered about the note. I know how you like your room; I'm going to come in," Katherine said, pushing the door open. She heard his aspirated sigh as she inched the door open. Over the past three years she had seen how distant her son had become with them. She tried to be a good mother but taking care of John was a strain on their family. Not that she didn't love her son. She didn't blame him, how could she? It wasn't his fault that he was like this. However, she did hope his medicine would have brought the boy she knew back to them. Yet she had seen how he closed himself off to them when they put him in the hospital. "John?"
"What is it?" Johnny asked, not bothering to look up at his mother. His eyes moving over the paper as his fingers worked over the keys.
"We're going out for dinner..." John's head instantly dropped he didn't want to go anywhere. He had work to do. He needed to get this report done so he could keep up his grade point average. "To the Olive Garden to celebrate Bill and Ruth's engagement."
"So? What does that have to do with me?" Johnny asked, he didn't like Ruth. He knew what she thought of him. He had heard her plainly tell one of her many friends what she thought of him when she was over last.
"Because John, Bill is your brother, you should be happy for him," Katherine said, in a motherly voice as she stepped into the room.
"And you want me to eat with someone that thinks so poorly of me?" Johnny asked, finally looking at his mother. "No thanks, I'll pass. Plus, I have to get this report done, and I can't do that there."
"The report can wait John. So, get ready, and I don't want to hear one word out of you," Katherine said sternly. His doctor told them they needed to be forceful with John to get him out of the box he had placed himself in. "What's this?" she asked, noticing the leaflet for Duke university. "John?"
"What does it look like?"
"You can't be thinking of going to a school on the other side of the country," Katherine said, her blue eyes falling on her son.
"Why not?" Johnny asked, tilting his head to the side.
"Baby, you'll be..."
"Alone, I know, and that's the point," Johnny said, crossing his arms.
"John have you really thought about this? If you go and have one of your... break downs, who's going to be there to calm you down? How will you afford your medicine? College is expensive, and very, very different than what high school is like," Katherine said, walking over to his bed. Making her son turn to look at her. "People there might not be as understanding of your..."
"Say it mother," Johnny said coldly.
"Your condition," Katherine whispered.
