This was a meeting to which I was not looking forward, not in the least, to be frank. Well, I suppose that I should be frank, as that is my name. Franco Lombardo, to be precise, but everyone just called me Frank. I was probably, at least on the surface, your standard fare Italian-American, with a slightly olive skin tone, dark brown eyes, and dark brown hair to match. That there were plenty of blonde and redheaded Italians was beside the point. People have a stereotype, and physically in many ways, I fit that typical look.
Another area where I was pretty commonplace was being at least technically a Roman Catholic. I hadn’t been to Mass in about six months, made any confessions in over a year, or showed any real interest in Catholic dogma or morals in my daily life, but yes, I was, at least on paper, a baptized and confirmed son of Holy Mother Church. Frankly, I was a bit disgusted with the Church since my father’s annulment of his marriage to my mother, along with all those stories about priests molesting altar boys and such, but I still hadn’t broken with Rome or anything.
In terms of my private life, of course, I was about as far from the Church’s morals and teachings as could be, which would be where this meeting came in, of course. You see, I had broken up with my girlfriend Vera about six months prior to this occasion, due to a bit of irreconcilable differences over infidelity, and being frank as always, I will admit that the cheating was mutual. I wasn’t any more cut out to be monogamous than Vera was, to be perfectly candid. This led to a sort of mutual discovery of our infidelity one day at my father’s country club, where a very naked Vera and my own father, Bruno Lombardo, equally nude, walked in on me in a threesome with my sister Alessandra and her boyfriend Steven Goldman.
There were some things that perhaps neither a father or a son wished to see, or even should see, such as brother-sister incest, one’s own father stepping out of the shower with one’s girlfriend, or one’s son taking it up the butt from his sister’s boyfriend, while sticking it up said sister’s ass in a train. That Dad and Vera had been fucking was obvious from the way that they came in fresh from the shower together, holding hands, no less. That I was engaged in a lengthy menage a trois with my sultry sister and her hot, very bisexual boyfriend was equally blatant because they saw us in flagrante delicto.
Naturally, this had led to a very loud, very unpleasant row with my father and now ex-girlfriend, along with Alessandra and Steven, my sister and I being threatened with disinheritance by Dad, even while my ex thundered her disgust at my incest and sexuality at me with all of the invective to be expected of a working-class London girl who had frequently served as a barmaid. I also cast aspersions on my father’s annulment, calling it the divorce that it really was, defending my mother’s honor in my own clumsy way and assuring Dad that I wanted no part of his money. I also implied that he was connected to the Mob, which he found most offensive, of course. He, in turn, insinuated that my incestuous affections extended to my mother, as did Vera (they did not). I very much bit back hard, as did my sister and her boyfriend, calling my ex a “golddigger” and worse things than that, while she called Steven and me “fags” and so forth.
With that, Alex (she preferred that version of her name to Sandra for reasons that escaped me even to this day), Steven, and I got dressed in a hurry, stormed out, and went back to my mother’s place, which my father was still forced to pay for due to the terms of a court settlement that largely ignored the Vatican’s treatment of their marriage as invalid (and rightly so). My mother, who had candidly not given a damn about what I did as long as I didn’t break any laws or anything like that these days, simply shrugged, left us alone to finish our business from before, and brought us sandwiches later, though she also flirted a little with Steven (she was human, right). If she knew or cared what we had just done, she didn’t indicate it at all. She also didn’t say grace before the meal, thanks to her own resentment of the Church (and she had been a pious Catholic up to this point).
Fast forwarding back to this meeting, one should consider that I had ignored the rather insulting (in my view) invitation to Dad’s wedding to Vera and simply refused to have anything to do with either of them. I had books to write, a publishing agent to please, classes to teach, and more to the point, a sister and our boyfriend (by now, this was kind of understood) to gratify sexually. Alex was already pregnant and we suspected that she had twins, because she and I were fraternals, so they ran in the family. We often waited until Mom went out somewhere on one of her mysterious dates to get it on, but we didn’t have her fooled by this point, and she dropped frequent hints that she knew what was happening, but simply didn’t care.
So, at any rate, Vera had invited me to meet with her shortly after Dad and she returned from their honeymoon in the Canary Islands, a popular locale for the British jet set, at least. Apparently, Dad was picking up some of Vera’s snooty personal tastes, at least in terms of what she often called “holiday,” being English, rather than “vacation,” the American term. It was at the club, to add insult to injury, since Dad had caused my expulsion from said club some time back (and Alex’s and Mom’s expulsion, too, whereas Steven was never a member, only his father’s guest, said father being an Israeli diplomat).
“Nice of you to agree to meet with me, love, especially here, given the recent, though hopefully soon forgotten, history. How are things with my darling stepson and stepdaughter these days?” Vera, all of twenty years of age, attempted to be filial, which was to me a rather sick joke.
“You’re kidding, right? You gotta be fuckin’ with me, you dirty, lowlife, trashy, golddigging whore! How dare you refer to me as your stepson or Alex as your stepdaughter? You’re not my mother, or even my stepmother! I’m thirty years old! You’re twenty! You’re ten years my junior and you want to act all maternal, and pretend that we’re family? You’re just my ex-girlfriend, playing my father for a fool so you can get his money! Someday, he’s going to realize that you never loved him, any more than you ever fucking loved me!” I got up, about ready to storm out already, but Vera grabbed my arm with surprising strength and turned down her shades to look at me with real hurt in her eyes, much to my shock.
“But I am your stepmother, Frankie! I married your father, so that makes me your stepmother, regardless of age, and I love him, believe it or not, just as I also loved ... and get this straight, please, STILL LOVE YOU! I never stopped loving you, Franco Lombardo! That has never bloody well changed, and this bollocks about me being just a trophy wife who doesn’t care about anyone but herself has got to stop! It’s no more true than anything else that we said so cruelly and viciously that day, such as your father being a ‘made man, ‘ or anything of the sort!” Vera whined, pouted, and even sobbed a little, much to my astonishment.
“So, you’re in love with both me and my father, is that what you’re saying now?” I asked skeptically.
“Is that so hard to believe, love? Darling, I married your father, because I knew that I wanted to marry one of you, and well, you weren’t talking to me by that point. Partly my fault, I admit, but still, it was very hurtful and he needed company, as did I. By the way, he never disinherited you, not permanently,” Vera assured me.
“I saw the paperwork, Vera!” I reminded her.
“I know, but he reinstated you and Alex later, trust me! I can show you documents to that effect! You’re back in the will, unconditionally, because your father still loves you, even if you’re both too stubborn to admit that you’re still father and son. Yes, I encouraged him to put you in, too, though he only needed a little nudge. Think that he’s going to leave nothing to his children but all of it to me? Hardly! You’re of age to do some good with it, as is Alex. I know that you don’t like your father very much right now, but he still loves you and you still love him. I know that it hurt you, finding out that your father slept with your girlfriend. I get it! It hurt me to see you having a threesome with your own sister and her beau, but I’m trying to move beyond that now.
“Face it, darling, we both cheated! You and I! We’re both guilty of that. We both have to live with that fact. I’m no better than you, and I hate to break it to you, but you’re no better than me. Sorry about calling you and Steven those awful names, same with your sister. She’s a very sweet girl and I always liked her. I don’t suppose that she likes me anymore, though, and I can’t say that I blame her. The fact of the matter is that this would have happened eventually, either both at once, or more one-sided, simply because neither of us is made for monogamy. You know it, I know it, and so do your sister, her boyfriend, your mother, and yes, your father. We all know it, okay?
.... There is more of this story ...
Ma/Fa / Fa/Fa / Ma/Ma / Mult / Consensual / BiSexual / Cheating / Slut Wife / Wife Watching / Incest / Mother / Son / Brother / Sister / Father / Daughter / InLaws / BDSM / DomSub / MaleDom / Group Sex / Harem / Orgy / Polygamy/Polyamory / Swinging / Anal Sex / Analingus / Exhibitionism / Oral Sex / Sex Toys / Voyeurism /