Revenge is ... a dish best served cold.
"La vengeance est un plat qui se mange froid," Les Liasons Dangereuses (1782); Pierre Ambroise Francois Choderios de LaClos (1741-1803)
I was born in New York, but my parents moved to a small city in southern Ohio, where I grew up an only child.
I got married right out of high school. Laine was beautiful; she was slender with large breasts and great legs.
I fell in love with her in Junior year, and we were married right after graduation, and Laine was pregnant.
It wasn't a shotgun marriage. We both wanted to get married, and neither one of us wanted to end the pregnancy. Although, it was strongly suggested as an option by Laine's mother.
We got a small apartment, and I got a job with a trucking company. I was a night dispatcher, and although the pay wasn't much; it was enough to get us by. About four months after the wedding, Laine's father died of a heart attack. Laine was heart-broken; her father had supported us with respect to getting married and with keeping the child. He had been looking forward to having a grandchild.
A few months later, Laine gave birth to our daughter, Jillian. She was beautiful; I was present during the birth and was absolutely beside myself with joy.
Laine was the perfect mother, doting on her daughter. She insisted on breast feeding, citing all of the studies that indicated that babies who breast-fed were healthier, smarter and all around better off.
Soon after Jillian's birth, I started going to college. I wanted better things for my family, and this seemed the way to go. My parents were happy that I wanted to continue my education, so they paid the tuition. Having a beautiful granddaughter didn't hurt either.
On the other hand, Lane's mother, Greta was not happy. "I'm too young to be a Grandmother ... they could have gotten married without that child," she complained. Greta rather forcibly suggested that we give our daughter Laine's maiden name. As the name would die out if we didn't. Laine thinking about her father's death thought it was a good idea and went along with it.
I reluctantly agreed, so my daughter's surname was Merriweather.
I adopted an attitude about my mother-in-law, agree and ignore. I would nod my head, and then do what I wanted to do.
Those first couple of years were tough. I was going to school full-time and working at night. We didn't take a vacation, or go away for those years. I took summer classes and classes during the winter break. Thus, after four and a half years, I received my Masters Degree in Bio-chemistry.
When Jillian was about two years old, Laine became pregnant again. My parents were happy, as they wanted grandchildren. On the other hand, Greta was furious.
"What the hell is wrong with you two? You can't afford a pot to piss in, and you are dropping brats all over the place. Don't think that I am going to help you two sex crazed animals with anything," She screamed.
As she had never helped us out in any way, this was no real problem, and I told her so.
Whereas Laine's pregnancy with Jillian was rather easy, this time she had a lot of problems. So much so that she spent the last month and a half in bed. My mother took care of Laine, while I was at work.
Just before Laine gave birth, Greta had the audacity to insist that the new baby have the Merriweather name, because when "that one" gets married, she won't have that name anymore.
I looked her straight in the eyes, and said, "NO WAY! This child will be a Wallace."
When she started to argue with me, I said, "Greta, you can go fuck yourself, because this child will have my name."
A few weeks later, after a very difficult labor, Laine gave birth to beautiful boy, Gregory Joseph Wallace. Laine was overjoyed. She had a son, a wonderful, beautiful son.
Ricky, the nickname Laine gave him, was the light of her life. She doted on him, nothing was too good for him, and nothing was too much for him.
Laine was a good mother to both children, but anyone could see that Ricky was the apple of her eye. But, in her defense, she was a wonderful mother to Jilly.
After, I graduated I got a job with a small pharmaceutical company. It paid a lot better than the dispatcher job, and within a year or so, we moved into a house of our own. Things were going good.
I enjoyed the work and really liked the bosses, and more importantly, they liked me. As the years passed, I rose in the company, eventually getting a quarter share in it. As it was a closely held corporation, we considered ourselves to be a partners, rather than shareholders.
However, as the years passed, Laine slowly changed. She ever so gradually became like Greta. She was extremely critical of me and to a lesser degree with Jillian. Nothing I did was good enough, and everything I said was wrong.
She was never satisfied. Even though I was making an incredible salary, it was never enough. Not that she was extravagant, or wasted money, I just didn't make enough. She was not happy that I worked for such a small company.
"Why can't you get a real job with a big corporation, and make real money," she complained.
For all intents and purposes sex with Laine stopped. In the last ten years I could count the number of times we had sex on one hand.
How I had allowed this to happen, I have no idea. It just evolved into a completely unhappy situation.
Ricky was now nineteen and was totally self-centered. He had to be the most selfish person I ever met. All I was good for was providing him with an easy life.
If I so much as attempted to deny him something, he ran to his mother and after berating me, she gave him whatever he wanted. He did no wrong; in her eyes he was the perfect son.
At twenty-one years old, Jilly was in her last semester of grad school and would have her Masters in Elementary Education in May. She already had a teaching job in Chicago and would start there in September.
She was moving to Chicago in July after graduation.
I was going to miss her terribly. She was the only loving thing in my life.
One night in early May, I came home from the office a little early. As I got out of the car, Jilly ran up to me and hugged me.
She said, "I just came out to go for a walk. Come for a walk with me ... Please, Daddy."
"Oh, my baby, I'm tired, all I want to do is go in the house sit and have a drink and relax," I groaned.
"PLEASE, Daddy, Just a short walk, Please," she begged.
How could I say no?
Well, the walk was not short, we were out for about an hour, when I told her I was really tired and we went back home.
Going into her house, Jilly yelled, "Hi. I'm home."
Ricky yelled from upstairs, "So what?"
Laine yelled from the kitchen, "How was your day, sweet heart?"
Before Jilly could answer, I said. "Not too bad. How was your day?"
Laine said, in a voice filled with venom, "I was talking to Jillian, not you."
I laughed and said, "Yea, I know."
I went up stairs to my room, (Yes, we had separate rooms) changed and came down and made myself a drink.
As usual, Laine lit into me about drinking, and that I was an alcoholic.
Just a typical night in the Wallace household. I went up to bed early.
The following Thursday I arrived home around 7:00 pm. Thursday was the usual partner meeting night. We would sit around and discuss the week, any ongoing projects, etc. Most of the time is was casual; we would have a couple of drinks, then leave around 9:30 pm.
As I had just closed on a rather lucrative contract that afternoon, the partners' meeting was canceled.
I went to the front door, and when I opened it I found that the chain was on. Knowing that I didn't want to hear Laine complain that she had to unlock the chain, I walked around to the back door, which was never locked.
As I walked along the side of the house, I passed the living room window. The light was on and I saw my wife, Laine, and my son, Ricky, with their arms around each other. They were kissing, not a mother/son kiss, they were locked in a passionate embrace. But, the thing that completely shocked me was that they were both stark naked.
Ricky's one hand was on his mother's ass, and the other was fondling her breast. Laine had her hand on Ricky's ass and was stroking his erect dick with the other. Their mouths were open, and it was obvious that their tongues were in each other's mouth.
When the kiss broke, Laine said, "Oh god, Ricky! I need you in me. I want your big cock in me, right now."
Ricky moaned and said, "Mom, anything, anything for you."
Laine dropped down onto the couch, pulling Ricky on top of her. She spread her legs. One leg went back onto the back of the couch, and the other was on the floor.
Ricky was lying between his mother's legs.
Laine reached down, grabbed his cock and guided it to her glistening vagina.
When his cock was lined up with his mother's vaginal lips, he lunged forward, impaling his mother with his stiff dick.
Laine screamed and wrapped her legs around her son's waist.
Ricky started to pump his dick into his mother's vagina. Laine was humping her hips in rhythm with her son's
I stood there watching them fuck for what seemed like hours.
Then, Laine started to moan and scream. I knew that she was close to cumming, as I had experienced it when we fucked.
"RICKY ... RICKY ... RICKY, fuck me! Fuck me harder. I'm almost there. Fuck me till I cum. FUCK ME ... FUCK ME," she screamed.
Ricky was humping away at his mother's cunt. He was yelling, "Oh MOM ... MOM ... I'm going to cum. I'm going to cum."
.... There is more of this story ...