Chapter 4

"What are you doing?" Marcia asked me and I sighed.

"Being grounded. What are you doing?"

"Thinking about you."

"Why?" I smiled at the ceiling and flipped my dick around with my fingers. It wasn't stiff or anything.

"I like to think about you."

"Okay," I said with a shrug. "I wish you were a boy."

"I wish you weren't a fag."

"Are we really weird?" I wondered.

"Yeah," Marcia said with a giggle. "Probably. I'm naked."

"How's your diet?"

"It sucks."

"Did you lose any weight?"

"Since yesterday? I haven't checked."

"You gotta go like a week or something," I suggested. "Checking everyday isn't good."

"Yeah?"

"That's what they said on Oprah."

"You watch Oprah?"

"I'm grounded, remember? It's a teacher workday too, so..."

"Oh."

"I'm playing with my dick."

"I'm playing with my pussy."

"Is it full of cum?" I wondered.

"Yeah," Marcia said, giggling again. "I fucked like five guys. They had huge cocks too. You woulda fainted probably."

"Liar." I laughed.

"I think I love you."

"Really?"

"Uh-huh," she sighed. "We should find a real boyfriend."

"Instead of Billy?"

"He sucks."

"I wish!"

"Shut-up! You know what I mean."

"I just want a guy to make out with me."

"I can get a fake mustache if you want."

"Hmmm..."

"Do you love me?"

"Yeah." I nodded into the phone. "I think so."

"Cool."

"I just wish your tits weren't so big."

"I wish your dick was bigger."

"I'm still growing."

"I'm trying to shrink."

"We're definitely weird, Marcia."

"I know."

Billy had just been fooling around about Marcia being my girlfriend. He and his two friends thought it would be funny spreading the rumor that she'd fallen in love with a fourteen-year-old faggot. It seemed like a dumb joke to me and pretty pointless since nobody would really care. The whole high school knew she was a slut and had been gangbanged by a dozen guys at Billy's house. It wasn't a secret and people even knew I'd been there, sucking cock and getting fucked like my girlfriend. Some of those guys weren't too bright and it had some unexpected consequences.

For one thing, Billy and his two friends didn't want to have anything to do with me anymore, or Marcia for that matter. I guess some of the kids at school had started calling them fags and they didn't like it. Cindy and her little lesbian club didn't like Mark and Dale anyway, so they were telling people how they'd dressed me up like a girl and the two boys had made out with me or something. I wished that was true and every time I heard a new rumor it got bigger and better, like the guys took me out on dates and we went to movies together. People said we made out in the theater and nobody knew because I looked like a hot mall brat with her two boyfriends.

I kind of liked those stories and Marcia would giggle when she told me about them, but apparently Mark and Dale had different ideas and they pretended like they didn't even know me. Billy too, since he was guilty by association and someone started a rumor that Marcia was pregnant with his baby or something. Actually, I think Marcia started that one and she was taking some pills that made her puke anyway because she wanted to get skinny, so everyone thought she had morning sickness. She wasn't going to tell them any different and I guess being bulimic is even more embarrassing than being pregnant.

She got better though once Billy dumped her. At least Marcia didn't have to listen to three jerks tell her how fat and ugly she was while they fucked her. But we really missed the sex a lot, both of us, even though I still had sex with my mom and Mr. Moore. Their wedding was approaching, along with my fourteenth birthday, and I wasn't sure how to feel about it.

"How long's he been fucking you?" Marcia asked as we sat near the fountain in the middle of the mall.

"About six months," I replied. "How about that guy?"

"He's not a fag," she said.

"He's hot though," I sighed, biting my bottom lip as some college stud walked past us without even a glance.

"I always knew Mr. Moore was a perv."

"Yeah," I agreed. "He's kinda sick."

"Does your mom know?"

"No," I lied. "We do it at school mostly."

"Hmph." Marcia nodded. "That guy's cute."

"Yeah," I agreed and we both stared at a handsome guy as he walked by holding his girlfriend's hand. He didn't look at us either, but his girlfriend kinda sneered at Marcia, I thought. I guess chicks notice when someone's checking out their boyfriends.

"Bitch," Marcia sighed.

"She's ugly anyway," I told her, but actually the girl had looked kinda beautiful and all three of us knew it.

We watched more guys, most of them with someone, but a lot of them were by themselves too.

"I never knew there were so many single guys at the mall."

"You think they're single?" I looked at her.

"No, not like that. I just mean ... by themselves, you know, for the moment."

"Oh." I nodded. "I wish I knew how to talk to one of them."

"Nobody talks to anybody at the mall," Marcia decided. "It's weird. Like perfect strangers can sit next to each other for an hour and not even say hello."

"You think?"

"Yeah," she said seriously. "It's like everybody else is invisible."

"I see them."

"Me too," she said with a grin. "But they don't see us."

"Wanna rob a bank?"

"That's why they don't put banks in the mall, I bet."

"All the invisible people would rob it."

"Yeah," she said and we both giggled like idiots. "You wanna go in the bathroom? I can suck your dick."

"No." I turned my head and pointed with my nose. "That guy's hot."

Marcia had become my best friend, my girlfriend so far as Mom was concerned, but Mr. Moore didn't believe it. He knew I was a total fag and so he liked to tease me about her.

"You don't really fuck that sloppy pussy of hers, do you?" he asked me with a grin.

"N-N-No!" I gasped as he held my naked back against his chest and fucked me in front of the television.

Mr. Moore held my flat tits, pinching them with his fists and nibbling on my neck and shoulders while I bounced my ass on his hard cock. In front of us, on the big flat screen, I could see what we looked like while we had sex. He'd set up a small handy cam and recorded us from the chest down so that our faces didn't appear on the video. Or at least his face, I should say, because he didn't mind filming me earlier while I nursed on his long, fat cock for ten minutes.

"I'll bet you do," he breathed into my ear. "You shove that faggot dick of yours in her pussy all night long."

"Noooo..." I moaned as I rolled my ass around on the full length of his cock.

I could feel it digging into my tummy, stretching my bowels almost painfully, but it felt amazingly wonderful as well. My horny penis and eager balls flopped around, dripping precum all over my tummy and thighs. I felt the desperate need to cum, but I liked the anticipation too.

"You fuck her just like you fuck your own mother," he told me. "Look at her. She's begging for it."

I turned my head to see my mom sitting on the sofa with her legs spread wide, rubbing her wet pussy while she watched us fuck.

"Tell her to get on your dick," Mr. Moore whispered. "Tell her to fuck you with my cock up your ass."

He slid his hands higher, gripping my shoulders and pulling me all the way down on his erection. He wouldn't let me move up and down at all, but only rock my butt on his lap. My dick stood strained upward, all of five inches long, hard and pointing at the ceiling. My balls ached, they were so ready to explode.

"Mom..." I groaned. "Fuck me ... Fuck my dick..."

"With my cock up your ass," Mr. Moore reminded me, but Mom was already moving anyway.

"Yeah ... With Mr. Moore's cock in my butt," I said, panting the words as Mom spread her thighs over the padded arms of the recliner.

She lowered her neatly trimmed pussy onto my cock, aiming it with her hand. Her husband-to-be let go of my shoulders so he could reach around her, pulling my mom's tits against my chest while she worked her cunt up and down my rigid penis. She kissed Mr. Moore, leaning past me to suck on his tongue and I came too quickly. Less than a minute after feeling the walls of her sex envelop me completely, my balls began to empty with a rush of semen.

Mom came as well, having been on the edge of her orgasm just as long as me. I watched her pert, round ass roll around on the television as she started grinding herself against my dick. It was the only way I could fuck her, if Mr. Moore got me hard with his gay attentions first. Whenever he wanted to watch my mom and I fuck by ourselves, my penis always went soft and I'd end up licking her pussy or feeling guilty while she tried to suck me to erection.

Any other mom probably would have been glad to know her only son didn't want to have sex with her, but it only frustrated mine. Sometimes she liked to tease me about it, and not in nice, joking sort of ways either. What had started out as kind of a fun game seemed to be turning more and more serious. Like having sex in the living room; it used to be we'd only do it late at night in her bedroom, but Mr. Moore had a way of coaxing my mom into trying new things and I'd already come to understand that he dominated her almost as much as he did me.

I kinda didn't like it, but I didn't know what to o about it either. We were pretty trapped, I thought, and trying to talk to my mom was worse than useless. I didn't even know how anymore.

After an early dinner one night, Mom wanted to go to the mall and Mr. Moore wanted to stay home and watch Monday night football. Since Mom didn't want to go alone, she made me come with her, but more than that, I think she just wanted to make sure he didn't fuck me while she was gone. The more we had sex, the more possessive she seemed to be and I didn't pretend to understand it, except I knew they argued from time to time. Probably because their entire relationship revolved around fucking me and that can't be too healthy.

This particular Monday happened to be a perfect example of how messed up we really were.

"He's such an ass sometimes," Mom said in the car. "Always telling me what to do."

"I know, Mom," I agreed, simply because that was the easiest way to keep her from getting started on me.

"Whenever I want to do something, he doesn't feel like it."

"Yeah."

"He hardly ever takes me out anymore," she said, honking the horn the second the stoplight turned green. "He always wants to stay home and fuck you."

"I'm sorry," I said softly, looking out the window.

"It's your fault, you little faggot."

"I know, Mom."

"He buys you those clothes," she said, shaking her head and hunched over the steering wheel. "He doesn't buy me anything."

"Uh-huh."

"He thinks I should be happy just because he fucks me three or four times a week?" She gared at me. "I've got needs too, you know."

"He's a jerk."

"I hate him!" She slapped the steering wheel. "I can't believe I'm marrying that asshole!"

"Yeah."

"He should marry you!"

"Maybe," I said with a shrug.

"He loves fucking you!" She pulled into the mall parking lot. "I can't believe my son's a cocksucker."

"I can't help it."

"I've seen the way you suck him off," she told me. "Like a little whore!"

"I am."

"Stuffing your face with his cock," she fumed. "Swallowing his cum like a slut. You're sick."

"Sorry, Mom."

"You sick little pervert!"

"I know."

"Shut-up! I'm tired of listening to you whine all the time!"

She held my hand like a little boy, squeezing my fingers so tightly that her knuckles turned white as she dragged me from store to store.

"Excuse me," Mom said in the Sears store, in the young miss department to be exact. "My son is gay and we're looking for a nice bra and panties set."

"Uh ... What?" The salesgirl, a high school girl for sure, smiled nervously, looking between us.

"My son," Mom repeated. "He's a homosexual and I want to buy him something nice, but not too sexy."

"Mom!" I blinked at her, feeling my face burn as the girl stared at me.

"It's hard enough keeping him away from the boys as it is," she explained in a honey dripping voice. "He's just a slut for penis."

"Yeah, um ... I don't know," the girl looked around and her face had turned red too.

"Stop it!" I whispered and she squeezed my hand tighter.

"Oh! Never mind," Mom decided. "Maybe I'll take him to JC Penney instead."

She pulled me away, leaving the girl standing there embarrassed and confused. That's how Mom punished me, by humiliating me in front of total strangers, preferably girls who were close to my own age.

She'd taken revenge on Mr. Moore's credit card to the tune of three or four hundred dollars. That didn't make much sense even to me, since Mom was gonna marry the guy – and his bills – in another month. Maybe other women do that sort of thing too, I have no idea, but if they do it only made me even happier to be a fag. A punch in the nose would be better than declaring bankruptcy every time I happened to disagree with my girlfriend about something. But I was just a kid too, so what did I know?

"I should just burn all your boy clothes," she said on the way out of the mall a couple hours later.

"What?" I hadn't heard that threat before and usually Mom calmed down a little after shopping.

"You want to be a girl? I can fix that," she decided and I half expected her to turn us around and take me back inside!

"I like being a boy," I said carefully.

"I can give your clothes to the Salvation Army," she said. "I'm sure Carl would just love to dress up his little whore in something sexy for school."

"Ummm ... Are you okay, Mom?"

"Me?" she snorted. "I'm not the one fucking a fourteen-year-old boy!"

"Well, you kinda are," I reminded her and I shouldn't have done that.

SMACK!

She spanked my butt! It didn't hurt, but only surprised me and I almost dropped her shopping bags. She spanked me again too, pulling my arm so she could get a better angle and I hadn't been spanked since I'd turned six probably, and never in the parking lot of a shopping mall! Thankfully, this late at night it was dark and there weren't a lot of people around. Nobody saw what was going on, but it made my eyes wet anyway. Not the pain, there wasn't any, but just the idea of being spanked by my mom. That she'd hit me at all, you know?

She spanked me all the way to the car, which wasn't that far away. Mom unlocked the doors and yanked the bags out of my hands, throwing them in the backseat. I just kind of stood there, flushed and blinking back tears and wondering how to make this okay somehow.

"Stop crying, you sissy!" Mom sat down on the driver's seat. She turned towards the door with her feet on the asphalt, and leaned out of the car to pull me close.

"Mom!" I gasped with a sudden shiver as she tugged my pants and underwear down and pulled me over her knees.

I was almost too big for that, physically I mean, but Mom was still bigger and stronger than me, plus she had a lot of emotion driving her. She spanked my bare butt with her hand and that did hurt! I struggled, but not very much. Mostly I cried and begged her to stop. My feet kicked the open door and I felt sharp little rocks digging into my palms as I pushed against the tar. My butt burned and Mom wasn't saying anything, just grunting with every slap.

"You crybaby," she breathed, rubbing my hot cheeks and sliding her fingers along the cleft of my ass. "You cockteasing, bitch. Stealing my boyfriend? Fucking his cock? You're a slut! Admit it!"

"Ye-esssss!" I hissed as she shoved her middle finger past my sphincter, fucking my asshole while I squirmed across her thighs.

"That's what you like," she said. "Don't lie to me, faggot. You like getting fucked."

"Uh-huh!" I grunted as she put another finger inside my ass, pumping me faster and then adding a third, stretching my dry asshole painfully.

"Does your pussy hurt, little boy?" she teased me, gathering her saliva and spitting it onto her fingers. "You're so soft and tight inside. So hot ... Mmmm ... No wonder he loves to fuck you."

She worked her spit into my butt, making it easier for her to fuck me. She'd pull my butt cheeks apart with her thumbs and drop large dollops of saliva onto my hole. It felt good, that's the strange thing, and I didn't want to like it, but I did. I felt the rush of shame and guilt, the warm pressure of her fingers sliding in and out of my ass. I bit my bottom lip and tried to stay quiet, not wanting her to know how much I liked being finger fucked. That wasn't easy though, not at all.

"Ummm ... Oh!" I clenched my ass around her fingers as she curled them inside me.

"Your dick's hard now, isn't it?" she asked and we could both feel my erection rubbing wetly against her legs.

"Mom!" I whimpered, hunching my hips and fucking my cock between her thighs as she spread them slightly.

"I knew you could do it," she whispered. "I knew you wanted to fuck me. Tell me you love me. Say it!"

"I ... Ugh!" I winced as she added her pinky finger, turning her hand, twisting her fingers as she fucked me. "I love you!"

"Now cum for me, faggot," she breathed, jamming her fingers as deep inside my butt as they could get. "Cum for Mommy ... Ohhh ... Yes!"

I did cum. I groaned as my cock began to spurt between her legs. She closed her thighs tightly around my penis, squeezing it and making me cum that much harder. Mom could feel my rectum clasping her fingers with hungry spasms of pleasure and she held them deep, only wiggling her fingertips to tease my tender flesh. When she pulled them from my butt, she pushed them into her mouth, sucking noisily and using her tongue even as she pushed me off her legs.

"Lick me," she demanded. "Clean that mess up."

We had to be crazy doing it right there in the parking lot, but Mom didn't seem to care and I couldn't say no. I didn't even pull up my pants as I knelt on the asphalt and started licking my own semen from the insides of her thighs. She spread her legs and pulled me higher, shifting on the seat until she nearly slid out of the car and I found myself eating her pussy until she came a moment later with muffled grunts and groans. Mom closed her thighs against my ears and the tangy juices seemed to squirt onto my face like piss. She'd never cum so hard before and I didn't swallow very much, but wore most of it.

"I'm sorry," she sighed after she'd caught her breath, pulling me up and into a tight hug. "I love you so much. I didn't mean it. I love you. I'm sorry."

She kissed my face and mouth, whispering the same words over and over even as her tongue split my lips and I knew she wanted me to fuck her. Mom fell backward across the bench seat and her legs were spread, her skirt hitched up around her waist. Her panties were pulled aside and my dick rubbed against her oily pussy while she kissed me, but I'd gone completely soft and she still tried to get me inside her, but it wasn't going to happen.

Mom pushed me away, not smiling and not saying anything either. I pulled up my underwear and my pants, looking around nervously just to avoid her frustrated glare. I got in the care and we drove home in silence.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, frozen in the archway between the living room and dining room. Mom was still in the kitchen.

"I, um ... came over to see you," Marcia said, looking flushed and breathing hard as she sat on Mr. Moore's lap in front of the television. He must have just turned it off as he dropped the remote control onto the carpet.

"I told Marcia she could wait for you," he said with a chuckle, giving the girl's big hips a squeeze.

She sat with her back against his chest and they were both dressed, with Marcia's skirt smoothed around her wide-spread thighs. Her legs were outside of Mr. Moore's and it didn't take much imagination to figure out that he had his cock inside her pussy. She'd worn one of those baggy v-neck sweaters she liked and I could see her bra pushed upward, over her tits.

"Ugh!" Marcia made a face as he shifted his hips slightly.

"Where's your mother?" Mr. Moore asked and I looked towards the kitchen.

"She's kinda mad," I told him.

"Hmmm..." He only shrugged at that news and started moving a little more, working his cock around inside Marcia's pussy.

"Ow! Ummmm ... Ouch!" She closed her eyes and bit her lip, rocking her body against him as they began to fuck right in front of me.

"Carl?" Mom called out from the kitchen. "Are you still watching that stupid game?"

"Yeah," he replied loudly. "It's ... Uh! ... almost ... Ugh! ... done!"

He slid his hands upward, under Marcia's sweater and grabbed her fat tits, mauling them as she moaned loudly. I was torn between wanting them to get caught and trying to avoid the inevitable Armageddon if they were. I couldn't believe Mr. Moore was fucking my best friend. My only friend. And she was fucking him back; it wasn't like he raped her or anything. She rocked his cock like a total slut, shivering and smiling and getting that dumb look on her face that told me Marcia was cumming. I felt betrayed by both of them, the way anyone would.

But the idea of Mom totally coming unglued frightened me and I had to protect her. I loved my mom, even if she was really weird. I turned around and just in the nick of time caught her leaving the kitchen.

"I'm sorry I was bad," I said, wrapping my arms around her waist and pressing my face between her breasts.

"What?" Mom stiffened for a second, but then her natural instincts took over and she hugged me back. "I'm sorry too. I just love you so much, it makes me a little crazy sometimes."

"I know," I sighed. "I love you, Mom."

"Shhhh..." She kissed my hair and rubbed my back, swaying on her hips as if rocking me to sleep.

"I wish I wasn't a fag," I told her, wondering how long it would take before Mr. Moore dumped his sperm inside Marcia. He could fuck for a long time when he wanted to; it's one of the reasons Mom loved the guy. Me too, I suppose.

"No, don't say that," she whispered. "I like watching you and Carl play together."

"You do?" I asked, knowing it was true.

"Hmmmm ... So sexy with his cock in your mouth," she said. "You're such a good cocksucker, it would be a shame if you weren't a fag."

"I like it when you watch us, Mom," I told her. "I want to make you proud of me."

"I know." She kissed my forehead. "Mommy is very proud of her little faggot, don't you worry about that."

"Keeping her warm for me?" Mr. Moore interrupted us with a chuckle.

"We were just having a moment," Mom said with a smile, letting me go as her fiancé stepped close.

"And I was just thinking about you," he told her, reaching around to grab her ass while they kissed.

"I bet you were!" she pouted, reaching for his crotch and massaging his penis. "You're not even hard for me."

"Get on your knees," he told her. "You know how to make it hard."

I stood there just long enough to watch my mom pull Mr. Moore's dark, wet cock out of his trousers. She held it with both hands, semi-erect and slimy with fuck juices, and sniffed it suspiciously. I held my breath waiting for the explosion, but it never came. She opened her mouth and started washing Marcia's cunt off his cock with her tongue. She had to suspect he'd been fucking someone and I didn't understand why Mom didn't go crazy again. Maybe she was tired of being angry, or possibly she didn't want to break up with Mr. Moore a month before their wedding. I didn't know and I didn't really care at that point; just so long as she didn't blame me for it later, I'd be happy.