The Revenge of Cheryl
Chapter 1

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Reluctant, Blackmail, BiSexual, Heterosexual, Fiction, Humor, Cheating, Revenge, Incest, Mother, Son, Cousins, BDSM, MaleDom, FemaleDom, Snuff, White Couple, Safe Sex, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation, Petting, Sex Toys, Squirting, Food, Cream Pie, Spitting, Double Penetration, Tit-Fucking, Size, Foot Fetish, Leg Fetish, Hairy, Big Breasts, Public Sex, Slow, Caution, Nudism,

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Aldrich has been Cheryl's secret lover for two years. When he dumps her and makes up his mind to marry an alien woman; Cheryl won't sleep, until she has taught him an unforgettable lesson.

I had my back facing him as I stared outside the window. Cold like ice, forceful air whipped me, tossing my hair behind. I knew he was staring me. I could feel it. He stepped towards me, his boots knocking the floor with unhurried, piercing thumps. "Darryl, I know this is a shock to you, but I truly would like to..."

He interrupted me, gripping my breasts all of a sudden. He caressed them while he sniffed my hair and brushed its thin, blond twines with his lips. "There is no need for you to say that to me, mother. What else shall I call you? Cheryl?"

I was half undressed at the moment. The bra I wore put to view half of my breasts. Forcing his fingers into it, Darryl pinpointed my nipples and crushed them. Not in that hurtful manner. He was sweet, gentle what's more. I breathed out, stripped of all ability to reason. "Darryl, you are so sweet, have I told you that?" I mumbled to him, keeping my voice smooth. He touched my neck with his lips and then swept his tongue across my skin. It felt ... wonderful.

"I have always wanted you, Cheryl. Nothing is going to take you away from me. Do you hear me?"

I did; and questioned him, "Even if I am your goddamn mother? You're not terrified to die, even if you were threatened to leave me on gunpoint?"

He pinched my nipples harder, making me shrink in satisfaction. Without warning, he grabbed my hair and swung me around so I could stare him in the face. The instant his eyes ran into mine, they glowed with excitement. He didn't mention any slight word regardless. He just laid hold of my waist, stirring his lips close to mine. That was when he kissed me, gradually and delightfully.

I went after the buttons of his chest and unfastened them. Darryl let his hand fall down to my hips, squeezing my ass so I could moan in enjoyment. I pulled his shirt off him and tossed it away. I didn't know where it was that I exactly threw it. He didn't need it at the moment, did he? Maybe after we were finished with this, he was going to want it again.

"You're mine," he hissed, in a stern voice. I was his, entirely, and he was mine as well. He pulled up my mini skirt and stroked my bare butt. Yes, I was not putting on underwear. His happy hand moved between my thighs, where he rubbed me vigorously, driving me insane. I moaned, feeling sugar make a stir to life deep inside my blood. The sensation was incredible—it took my breath away.

"Darryl, you are so sweet ... you are the sweetest thing that has ever ... happened to me." That's how I felt; like I would go crazy any moment now. I could no longer tell the distinction between fantasy and reality. Possibly this was fantasy, but wait, it all seemed like reality. Was it really?

His breath breezed coolly into my face, sweet, like fragrance. I pressed my lips on his, kissing him like a mad woman. He kissed me back, placing his hand on the back of my neck. He hugged me tight to himself. I nibbled his tongue with my teeth, brushing his lips with the aid of my tongue. He froze suddenly and then moaned out in pleasure.

"Fuck me, Darryl—fuck me harder," I begged him once we had pulled back. Without delay, he carried me up to my bed, where he laid me down nicely. My heart thumped faster and faster. Using his fingers this time, he located my clit and rubbed it. Yes ... this boy surely knew how to fuck a woman up till she had achieved an orgasm.

I reached for his trousers behind and loosened his belt. Then I took it off and cast it away. I had no idea where it precisely fell. It just dropped, tinkling on metal, and then there followed a moment of deep-felt silence. Having opened widely the lips of my pussy, Darryl checked it inside, with care. His eyes had a darksome appearance to them, like he was not happy with what he saw. What had he seen actually? I couldn't help it but wonder in silence.

Ah; the pleasure! I felt that I was sinking in a sea of enjoyment. "How do you want me to fuck you, Cheryl?" He asked, politely to my astonishment.

"Fuck me hard. I don't care how. Do it any manner that you feel like. Fuck me now, sonny, please."

His trousers plummeted to the floor, and he kicked it away while climbing up the bed. I pulled my legs apart and shut my eyes. He carried his stone-hard penis in his hand and then slipped it into me ... into my wet pussy. Yes. I was wet by then, and it surely felt nice, didn't it? It certainly did!

I gripped both sides of the bed once he had put his manhood into my vagina. I couldn't think straight. I couldn't make out what was sense and nonsense, what was reality and dream-like. He pushed his penis further in, and I shut my eyes the firmer. "Ah," I voiced out, breathless and thoughtless.

"Do you like it like this?" He questioned me, slamming his thighs against mine as he moved further and deeper into me.

Of course, I didn't want him to stop. "Fuck me harder, sonny, please do so," I pleaded him. I could go down on my knees if he asked me to do that—serious.

"Fine, sweet mommy; here ... I ... come." God, he threw off semen into me without notice, so soon even, can you picture that? It showered into my pussy like a flood, wetting every patch of space that it could easily penetrate. I opened my eyes and met his. He arched down, so to kiss me. I licked him back while he kept pumping more semen into me, slapping his balls on my butt underneath simultaneously.

The minute we were through, we flopped down on the bed, exhausted. I didn't bother to cover myself with any nearby sheets. What was there to hide? He had seen everything that a man can notice on a naked woman. Like me, he did not veiling his nakedness too. Cautiously, he stirred after my breast and began to suck it. I laughed, mocking him, "Stop doing that, kiddy. You are arousing me, don't you see?"

"I am arousing you?" He seemed perplexed. "I don't see anything wrong with that. In fact, I want to fuck you the sixth round, Cheryl. Come on mommy: Give me that juicy ass of yours, that sweet pussy too. Let's fuck, harder than we did moments gone."

"I don't have an ounce of strength left in me, seriously. We're not fucking another time. If you force me into doing it, using your strength to overpower my weakness, you're going to discover me dead on this very bed once you are finished." I almost didn't notice it. Tears slid their way out of my eyes, drenching my smooth cheeks. Not that Darryl's penis had hurt me in any way imaginable. It had not. I didn't even understand the real reason I was shedding tears like this. When he noticed it, Darryl moved his hand to my face and swabbed my away tears away with his palm. It was a big relief on my part.

Nighttime vanished. The sun showed up in the sky, dimly at first, but gaining vigor and brilliance as the day wore on. I stood by my window once again, lonely this time. I didn't mean to do it. In fact, I was not supposed to be this emotional. The truth is I just couldn't help it. Aldrich, the sole man that I truly loved, and who as well happened to be my own son, was getting married to someone else I didn't know that well. Was I going to let that happen? Hell no!

While comforting myself to be strong, I grabbed my handkerchief and mopped away my tears. I couldn't leave the house in this state. Someone would notice, and come to stunningly accurate conclusions: That I was madly jealous of my son marrying, and would do anything in this damn world to wreck his damn marriage. I knew what to do anyway. I would put on sunglasses, dark ones in shade, which would conceal my eyes so no one was able to tell that I had been crying.

With a deep sigh, I stepped out of my room and sneaked into my car. I was avoiding to run into anyone, much less starting up a conversation. I wasn't in the mood for any chit-chat either. Once inside my Audi A4 (pitch-black, all shiny, and fashioned with a lookalike convertible roof) I started off for Katelyn's. I played my favorite music along the way. Aldrich had called for a grand meeting to announce his forthcoming marriage. And this was after enlightening his brother and grandpa and me about the matter at hand. I had to find something suitable to put on tonight. Yeah.

Katelyn's was a boutique. My good friend, Katelyn Jones, ran it and also held it in her possession. I found the place almost empty. This was not the closing hour by the way. It was 2 in the afternoon, three minutes past lunch. I always knew this place to be ever packed. Perhaps business was not doing fine today.

Julie Evans was a saleswoman here. There were just two salesmen—her and that other gay man, his name must be Christopher. Nevertheless, I didn't come across him. He must have gone out, likely. There was just her alone. Goodness, I didn't have the guts to ask her where her stunning buddy was. He had a big, attractive-shaped ass, I must admit.

"Julie," I greeted her, smiling affectionately. She did me the same favor, hurriedly jumping up to her feet to shake my hand.

"Madame Cheryl, how are you doing?"

"I'm sweet as always, baby. Is Katelyn around? I haven't seen her in a little while—four days, I mean."

Julie scowled, in all likelihood shocked. "That's quite long a time. I know you tow to be fond of each other all the time. Too bad, life and circumstances have a way of tearing apart people, even the best of friends, isn't it true?"

"Yeah," I agreed, feigning a smile. The truth, I'll repeat it a second time, is that I was not in the mood for smiley long chats and stuff like that. Aldrich was getting married and he was moving far, far away to Sydney in Australia once that god-screwed wedding of his had seen the light of day. There was no way I was going to lay down still on my bed and sleep happily, acting like I had nothing dear to lose here. All these long months, since the death of my sweet, old husband, Kane, I had invested all my priceless feelings into him—my whole self, my whole body, my whole mind and soul. And for that, I deserved to be treated like I didn't matter to him anymore? He was totally wrong. I had a master plan to ruin his fling with that Rudy girl. That was her name, horrible like shit. I didn't get it. What did he see in her, which I myself didn't catch sight of? Her dressing wasn't all that jaw-dropping. She didn't know how to pick clothes of finest taste, honestly. All the time, she was in khakis and sneakers and tops; the same boring attire day and night. As a good piece of advice, I counseled her to be watching Fashion TV two hours in a day, hoping it would open up her eyes so she can see how stupid she was. My advice didn't seem to work—no, not even for one single day.

Rudy wasn't the most beautiful girl in Swanson (our city), neither was she Miss Virginia. Who knew? The only reason Aldrich was marrying her was so he could hurt me. Before all of this came to happen, he was evermore nagging me to marry him, his own mother, and then have us flee far, far away after that. I maintained, "No," and here I was, suffering for that.

The other day, I confronted him face to face and demanded: "Tell me, what is it that you see in that junkie whom you call Rudy? What? I don't see anything admirable about her. I'm wondering if you're deliberately blind to this extent where you have made a choice of spending the rest of your goddamn life with a woman that pitiable."

He couldn't answer me straight. He just frowned at me and told me that he preferred marrying that pitiable woman as opposed to spending the rest of his goddamn life with someone as horrible as me. Guess what, I couldn't believe him. He was saying all this just to hurt me. Yes.

Back to Katelyn's with Julie. "Too bad, Mrs. Jones is not here, Cheryl. She left an hour back with her husband. They must have gone out for lunch."

I waved my hand down, a token of expressing, 'Okay-I-Get-You.' "Fine; it's not like I came all the way here only to see her. I have some shopping to do, you see. Would you mind lending me a hand? I don't know what I'm going to wear tonight for a special family gathering. I'd appreciate it if you—"

She interrupted me. "I have no problem doing that, Madame Cheryl. I love being of great help to our clients, especially on times like these when they are clueless as concerns what to wear and what to drop." That word—'clueless.' I had a particular aversion to it. I didn't highlight this to Julie's knowledge anyway. My asking her to help me pick what to dress didn't spell out that I was totally clueless. I'm not ignorant of what pieces are fashionable, and which ones are a plain 'No-No.' I was angry and hurt and confused with my life. A person in this state was not to be left alone to make sound judgment for herself. I needed someone by my side, someone to steer me on the right track for the right reasons and right purposes in case I had gone astray.

At long last, I was finally back home, at spot-on four in the afternoon. I shut myself inside my bedroom and began my preparation. This was not going to be an uncontrolled celebration or party. Yet that is what most family folks were imagining. Five times I had to correct Zara, who is my dearest, sweet-talk cousin, that this was a family get-together to discuss crucial family affairs, and not a family crowding for a big-budget, showy jubilee.

I had everything I needed here within my room. My own toilet, bathroom, small kitchen, and library conjoined to my private bedroom. At least I didn't have to tiptoe out there every once when in a little while to pee or steal cheese from the refrigerator downstairs or a How-To-Beautify-Yourself guide. When Zara came knocking at my door, screaming my name like a mad woman, I ignored her and carried on with the beauty business I had only just started.

Finally, I was ended. I walked to the mirror, shuddering. What if I was now ten times uglier than when I didn't have on make-up? What if I was jaw-droppingly beautiful like Cinderella? With a swift pounding heart, I stood before the mirror and studied my reflection, allowing myself as much time as I needed to have. Spectacular! I didn't know this knee-high crimson dress would look spectacular on me. I wanted to step out straight away so that everyone could see how tremendously beautiful I was.

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