Chapter 11

My dick was still humming from the morning’s chaos, a dull, pulsing ache that made every movement feel electric. I looked at Lauren, who was glowing and flushed, and then at Miri, who was shaking like a leaf after Gramps’ sick joke. The air in the room felt heavy, saturated with the smell of our combined release and the lingering scent of old man breath. When Gramps started talking about “bathing together,” a sudden wave of nausea hit me, not because of the sex, but because the idea of seeing his wrinkled, liver-spotted skin rubbing against Lauren’s smooth, creamy thighs was enough to kill any mood I had left.

“Yeah, we’re good on the bath,” I muttered, my voice cracking as I scrambled to pull up my boxers. Miri didn’t even wait for me; she bolted toward her clothes, her face a mask of disgust. We didn’t need an invitation to leave. We practically sprinted out of that room, the image of Gramps’ predatory grin burned into my retinas, leaving Lauren laughing her head off as she lounged back on the pillows.

By the time we trudged back to our trailer, the sun was high and oppressive, making the asphalt shimmer with small mirages. The second we stepped through the door, Mom was waiting for us, her red hair wild and her eyes glittering with a greed that had nothing to do with love. She didn’t even ask how our night went or why we came home early.

“Listen up,” she snapped, lighting a cigarette that smelled like cheap tobacco and desperation. “The Fullmers are coming over next weekend. Frank and Felicia will pay a premium, real money, not pocket change, but they’ve got a quirk. They want you two to watch while they screw me. You two have to act like little, innocent virgins who’ve never seen a cock in their lives. When we get naked, you act shocked. Disgusted. Like your childhoods are being ruined, but you can’t look away. You do it right, and maybe we’ll eat something that isn’t out of a can or a box.”

The air in the trailer was thick with anticipation. Frank Fullmer was a tall but slightly chubby man with a laugh that sounded like a wet cough, and he didn’t waste any time. He barely shook my hand before he had Mom pinned against the kitchen table, his hands roaming over her curves with a proprietary hunger. Miri and I sat on the old vinyl couch, our faces carefully constructed into masks of horror.

“Oh my god! Stop it!” Miri wailed, leaning into the role with an intensity that almost impressed me. She covered her eyes with one hand, though her fingers were spread wide enough to see everything. I joined in, letting out a loud, fake gasp of disbelief. “This is gross! You’re ... you’re actually doing it!” I exclaimed, though inside, I was just watching the way Frank’s tongue worked the junction of Mom’s thighs, his face buried deep as he drank her in.

The scene escalated quickly, a raw, unfiltered display of lust that filled the cramped room. She flipped around, her breath coming in ragged, guttural grunts. First, it was oral, his mouth working on her with a rhythmic intensity that made the table creak, and her licking and stroking his meatstick with impressive skill.

Then he slid into her vaginally, his thrusts heavy and wet, sounding like boots stepping through deep mud. Mom let out a long, theatrical moan, her nails digging into the Formica tabletop. But the real show started when he shifted his angle, guiding himself toward her backside.

As he slammed into her anally, Mom’s head snapped back, a genuine scream of pleasure ripping from her throat. We kept up the act, shouting about how “wrong” it was and how we couldn’t look, even as we watched the raw friction of their skin colliding. But then, something happened that actually broke through our performance of feigned disgust and shock.

Felicia, Miss Fullmer, who had been watching with a quiet aroused smile, leaned forward and licked the semen off Mom’s buttocks! More shocking yet, with slow, deliberate motions, she reached out and finger-fucked my mother! Eventually she worked all of her fingers inside, then her whole hand! When she withdrew, it looked like Mom gave birth to her fist!

It took a lot of Vaseline and quite a while, but eventually she managed to do the same with my mother’s asshole! Mom crapped out her hand!

The room went silent for a heartbeat. Miri actually stopped pretending; her jaw dropped, and she looked at me with a gaze of genuine, unfiltered shock. A different kind of heat started curling in my gut. I looked at Felicia. She wasn’t Miss America or anything, but quite an attractive woman, curvy in all the right places, with skin that looked like it tasted like cream and expensive soap. She was leaning back, her legs parted, her eyes locked onto mine with a challenging, hungry shimmer.

Frank didn’t even pause. He shifted his weight, moving away from Mom like he was just switching channels on a TV. He leaned over and buried his face in Felicia’s soaking wet heat, his tongue working her vulva with a slow, rhythmic lap that made her back arch and a soft, guttural moan escape her lips. He looked up at me, his face glistening, and reached into his pocket.

“Fifty bucks, kid,” Frank grunted, waving a crisp bill in the air. “Fifty dollars, for some oral effort to finish her off? The rest of us will just watch the show. Will you eat my sister ‘til she pops, for fifty?”

My heart hammered against my ribs. I didn’t even think about the weirdness of Mom and my sister watching, I just thought about the taste of her and the thrill of being dared to do it. “Yeah,” I rasped, my voice sounding like I’d swallowed a handful of gravel. “Okay.”

I slid off the couch and crawled across the carpet, my knees digging into the grit. When I reached her, the scent of sex and expensive perfume was overwhelming. I didn’t hesitate. I dove in, my tongue finding the center of her heat, licking her with a raw, desperate intensity. She tasted like salt and honey, and the way her thighs tightened around my head made my own cock throb violently. After the first taste, I would have eaten her all night for free!

I worked her clit with a precision I didn’t know I possessed, swirling my tongue in a way that had her hips jerking upward. Felicia let out a sharp, loud gasp, her fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me closer. I could hear Miri breathing hard beside me, the “horror” of the act completely forgotten as she watched my tongue disappear into the folds of Felicia’s skin.

Suddenly her body stiffened. She let out a long, shivering cry, her internal muscles clenching around my tongue in a series of violent, rhythmic pulses. She came hard, her breath hitching in a series of ragged pleasure sobs. By the time I wiped my face clean, she lit a cigarette and smiled. “You’re very good at that. Too good!”

Frank stared in Miri’s eyes, asking, “I wonder if his sister is, too? Fifty bucks to blow me and drink my cum? How about it, girlie?”

Felicia added, “And another fifty, if he cums in his mom. No condom, flavor her pussy for when I eat it later. Want to be a motherfucker, Wally?” She licked her lips, exciting me even further.

My head was spinning. The air was thick with the smell of sex and cigarettes. I looked at Mom. She looked back at me with a vacant, exhausted expression, the kind she had after a long day or a bad hangover. She didn’t care about the morality of it; she just cared about the money. She shifted her legs, opening up for me, her eyes drifting to the ceiling as if she were already somewhere else. “Just do it, Wally,” she sighed, her voice flat and devoid of any heat. “Get it over with so we can get paid.”

I didn’t need another invitation. I lunged forward, my cock throbbing and leaking a thick trail of pre-cum. I didn’t use a condom. Felicia wanted to taste me inside Mom, and a piece of rubber between me and Mom’s wetness felt like a crime. I grabbed her hips, my fingers digging into her pale skin, and shoved myself inside her with a raw, desperate grunt. She let out a sharp, involuntary huff of air, her body stiffening not with pleasure, but with a reluctant compliance. She felt like silk and warm oil, her walls tight and welcoming even if her heart wasn’t in it.

As I started to drive into her, the rhythmic slap-slap-slap of my pelvis hitting hers filled the room. I was seeing stars, the friction of our skin creating a heat that felt like it was melting my brain. Every thrust was a victory, a primal claim on the woman who had spent sixteen years ignoring me. I watched her face. She was quite disgusted, her lip curling in a slight sneer, but she didn’t move to stop me. She just lay there, a living pillow for my lust, while I hammered away at her with everything my cock had.

Right beside us, Miri had finally stepped up. She was on her knees, her small hands gripping Frank’s thick, veiny shaft. She looked up at me, her eyes wide and shimmering with a mix of curiosity and arousal, and then she leaned in. She opened her mouth wide, sliding her lips over the head of Frank’s cock with a wet, sucking sound that synchronized perfectly with my thrusts.