The Usual Disclaimer: This is a work of fantasy. All characters featured in sexual situations are over 18. The characters in these stories are fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons living, dead or undead is purely coincidental. Do not try this at home.
This story requires some preface. I read stories on Literotica for many years before I made an account and started writing my own stories. The stories I write are what I think of as “Literotica-style” short stories—they are written to fit in with some of the others I have enjoyed over the years. This story has some “meta-story” within it. Back when I first stumbled across the site (around 2002) I used to read nearly every story as soon as it came online. There were a lot fewer regular authors back then, and far fewer stories overall.
I recall reading a story in which a young man’s mother seduced most of his friends. When he went to college, he came back to his dorm room to find his mother and sister having sex with his new roommate. Afterwards, they leave and the roommate is never mentioned again. I recall thinking, “What about that guy? He has to feel like he got hit by a tornado or something. To him, that whole event had to have come out of nowhere.”
Then there were a couple of “Gay Male” stories in which a guy is on a business trip, staying at a hotel for a prolonged stay. In one of them, he is in town for a seminar. He gets seduced and “turned out” by a big-dicked guy, and drawn into a submissive role in a gay relationship. In the end, he divorces his wife. I recall thinking, “Whoa! He never explained anything to his wife. And what if he had kids? The family he left behind would be devastated.” That was in my mind over the years, and found its way into this story. The main character of Paul not only has his own issues to deal with, but he is side-swiped by the events of two other stories in the “Literotica Multiverse.”
Thanks to Joseph for the original story idea, and to Geek_Writer, Gobred, Cassie and Pat for the helpful feedback.
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I was the youngest of three kids. My older brother, Trevor, joined the Army right out of high school. He was always my hero, and it devastated our family when he was killed in Afghanistan. To this day, I have trouble accepting that he is really gone. Trevor was such a larger-than-life guy it just seemed impossible. It still seems impossible. I have dreams that he shows up and tells us it was all a cover so he could infiltrate some terrorist organization. Whenever I wake from one of those dreams, it takes me a while to accept my reality—a world without him in it.
I sometimes hear Trevor's voice, sardonically snapping me out of it when things seem rough.
My sister, Jeannie, is two years older than me. She went off to nursing school three states away, but she flew home to visit during the longer school holidays and drove home to stay with us last summer. Jeannie and I weren't particularly close growing up. I thought she was mean, and she thought I followed her and her friends around too often. The last three years she was in high school, she called me a "perv" far too often. I actively avoided her most of her senior year.
When Jeannie was home last summer, she apologized for calling me names. "Paul, I am so sorry about that. I was really immature. I wanted to have my own life with my friends, and I snapped at you when I shouldn't have. Can we put that behind us and be friends? Can you forgive me?"
"Of course, Jeannie," I said with a shrug. "No hard feelings."
She spread her arms and we hugged. She squeezed me so tightly that I could feel my pulse throbbing in my temples. I could hear Trevor in that moment.
"Aw, look at you two. You look like a real brother and sister now."
We made peace, but we still were not really friends. I wasn't mad at Jeannie, but I was trying to enjoy that last summer with my closest friends from high school. As a result, we rarely saw each other that summer. I wasn't even there to see her off when she headed back to school. Just days later, I was packing my car to go to my first semester of college. My mom followed me in her minivan, bringing three more boxes of my stuff. Once we got to my dorm, she helped me carry everything up to my room. I gave her a big hug and waved as she drove away.
None of my high school friends were going to the same school as me, so I would be on my own. The university had a policy that all incoming freshmen had to stay in the dorms for their first semester. My roommate was named Kyle and he was from a town just across the state border. He arrived a couple of hours after my mother left. His parents and sister were there to help him move in.
It was weird, because after meeting Kyle and his family that first day, I barely saw the guy. He was an engineering major while my major was psychology. We had no classes in common. He pulled odd hours and had a ton of labs and study groups. Kyle also took off every Thursday night to go home for the weekend, since it was only an hour drive. I didn't feel like making the long drive home and I had the dorm room to myself for the weekends.
Three weeks into the school year, I asked a girl named Stacy out on a date. We went out for dinner and a movie. I thought it was going well. After the movie, I was hoping to get a kiss and the promise of a second date. Instead, Stacy pulled out my dick in the car and gave me a blowjob. Then she begged me to fuck her. We couldn't get into my dorm room and naked fast enough. Stacy pounced on me, riding me hard and feeding me her breasts.
"God, I love how your hard dick feels inside me!" she groaned.
She shivered and came all over my sensitive shaft and balls twice. When I groaned that I was going to come, she slid to her knees and sucked me off. It was the most intense sexual experience I had to that point. Stacy was far more enthusiastic than any of my high school girlfriends had been.
Unfortunately, she was just as enthusiastic with other guys she dated. She wasn't interested in being my girlfriend, and it was not something I expected. After that amazing first date, I had expected to have some sort of long-term relationship. I felt foolish and naïve when I asked her out on a second date and found out she already had a date for that Friday night.
I found myself alone in my dorm room that Friday evening as a result. That was when my mom called. I smiled when I saw who it was, looking forward to a nice chat with my mom. As soon as I heard her voice, though, I had to sit down. Just like when my brother died, my world felt like it was spinning. Again, I could hear the heartbreak in my mother's voice.
"Your father left me," she sobbed. "After twenty-seven years of marriage, he just filed for divorce and moved out."
To say that I hadn't seen this coming was an understatement. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I just sat there with my phone in my hand, in shock. Trevor's voice snapped me out of it.
"Get your head out of your ass, college boy. Mom needs you."
I actually looked around for him, but then I did snap out of it.
"Mom, do you want me to come home?"
Her voice dripped with gratitude. "Oh, Paul, could you? I would—" she sobbed, making me feel even worse. "I really would appreciate it. I feel so alone right now."
I packed a bag quickly and kept talking to her on the phone. "You're going to be alright, Mom," I assured her.
As she revealed the sketchy details, it made even less sense. She hadn't been there when Dad packed his things and left. A lawyer had arrived that evening to serve her with divorce papers. No reason was given for the divorce. She had not been able to reach my dad, and he hadn't called or spoken to her in a week.
I was still on the phone with her two hours into my drive, but then the phone beeped. I glanced down at it. "Mom, I need to put my phone on the charger. It's dying. I'm going to stop for gas, and I'll see you in two hours, okay?"
"Okay," she replied. Already she sounded much better than when we had started talking hours earlier. "Drive safely, Paul. I'll see you soon."
I gassed up the car and grabbed a big coffee, and then I was back on the road. I was cruising along a half hour later when I saw flashing lights behind me and looked down at the speedometer. Shit! I was doing ninety.
"Way to go, college boy,"
I heard from the backseat. Nobody was there, of course. I still looked in the rear-view mirror.
I apologized to the officer and took my speeding ticket. After that I set the cruise control and put on some music to try to calm myself. I knew I needed to be in control of my emotions when I got home because Mom would need me to be strong for her. Just over an hour later I pulled up in front of the house. Despite the late hour, most of the lights were on. Mom squeezed the breath right out of me with the ferocity of her hug. She cried into my chest and clutched me to her with a desperation that was painful to see.
Mom had always been the happy homemaker. Classic "soccer mom" material, she was the one we could count on to give us a ride when we needed to go somewhere. She would bake tirelessly for fundraisers. She kept the house tidy so I was never embarrassed to have friends over. She was friendly to everyone. Now she was an emotional wreck and a shell of the woman I remembered. Mascara ran down her cheeks, highlighting the heartbreak in her eyes. I just held her and let her cry.
We wound up falling asleep on the couch, still holding each other. It wasn't comfortable to wake up that way, still dressed in the same clothes, sweaty, and cramped from the awkward position. I tried to disengage from her arms, and Mom woke up with a panicked expression. I kissed her gently on the lips.
"Relax, Mom, I'm just getting up to take a shower," I said.
"Oh, okay," she murmured, but she still looked reluctant to release me.
After my shower, I smelled breakfast cooking. I gave Mom a big smile when I came out to the kitchen. She tried to return that smile, but it just wasn't in her. I walked up behind her and wrapped my arms around her.
"It's going to be okay, Mom," I murmured into her hair.
We sat down and started eating when she abruptly stopped with her fork halfway to her mouth.
"It's not going to be okay, Paul," she said sadly. "Not here. I can't live by myself in this house. Everything I see makes me feel like a failure."
I finished chewing and swallowing before I nodded. "Okay. Where do you want to go?"
